Defiance
by midnightshadowkisses
Summary: The name's Uchiha Sasuke. What's it to you? I'm 19 and a successful male ballet dancer. Despite that and the fact that my friend Neji is screwing some dude named Gaara, I never thought I was gay...til I met Naruto. SasuNaruSasu, mentioned/mild GaaNeji
1. Friendship vs Love

**A/N Ever since I created this yaoi-only account, I've had about a million ideas for SasuNaru and NaruSasu. So I'm gonna be writing a bunch at one time, I think – and this is one of them XD Updates may be slow, and this is NOT PWP so there will be plot – but there will also be yaoi and lemons (though I hate that word). **

**So enjoy! **

**Warnings:**

**This is yaoi. Slash. Shonen-ai. If you don't know what that is, I suggest not reading. If you do know, and you don't like it – same. **

**This is rated M not only for the yaoi, but for language. The characters are approximately 19 in this fic – they're not exactly pristine.**

**Some parts are as cheesy/sweet-ish as hardcore yaoi-ish. And as for the last warning…beware Sasuke in tights. XD I couldn't help it.**

**Oh, and I don't own Naruto, Sasuke, or anyone associated with them, much to my dismay.**

"Hey, Sas-_uke_, ready for tonight?"

"Shut the fuck up or we'll see who the goddamn uke is, Neji!"

We're just teasing, of course. I can't really call us best friends, but we're pretty damn close, and that's saying something when you're Uchiha Sasuke. Which I am. It's an ongoing joke with us, and it's funny because I'm straight and Neji's taken. He _is _the uke, in fact, as I know from a serious TMI-session in the dressing room a few weeks ago. Then again, I can't imagine anyone in the world topping Neji's boyfriend Gaara. The dude practically fucks you with his eyes.

...But I'm not gay, I swear. I have -- well, I _had _a girlfriend. Hinata. She was sweet, pretty...the only problem was, though I'm not gay, she turned out to be. I'd rather lose her to Sakura than some asshole, though, so it's okay. I'm pretty preoccupied as it is.

"Oh, boys!" A familiar singsong voice wafts to us. Our dance instructor, Kakashi, pokes his head into the dressing room. The dressing room in which approximately twenty sweaty teenage guys are currently stripping off tights and leotards after a strenuous four hour rehearsal (our first performance of Romeo and Juliet is tonight). Pervert. We should be used to it, though. "Be back at 7 so we can get you all into your costumes!"

"Yes, Kakashi-sensei," we chorus tiredly. This gives us two hours, which kind of sucks, because we've been in rehearsal from 8 to 12 this morning, then from 1 to 5. And a performance at 8, with costume call at 7. Thank God our new schedule starts once the performances pick up, which means we'll only have rehearsals from 2-6 starting tomorrow. Still, it's per day, and it's every day except Sunday (and we still have performances on Sundays), and it's for the entire month. Then we take a break (maybe for a week, or sometimes a month. Depends on how much we make off Romeo and Juliet), then we have to audition for something else and the whole goddamn thing starts again.

Life is not easy when you're a male ballet dancer.

Yet, I wouldn't trade it for the world. There's just something about --

"Hey, Sasuke, wanna grab something to eat?" Neji shakes me out of my thoughts, clapping me on the arm.

"Wha? Oh -- sure," I say. Not like there's anything better to do. I sling my bag onto my shoulder and follow him outside into the barely spring streets. Of all the times to be working on a show, I have to say I prefer April. It's just...perfect, especially for something like Romeo and Juliet. The skies are clear enough for the sun to wash our practice dance studios in a golden gleam. Furthermore, when we go outside, it's not so uncomfortably cold that our sweat turns to ice and clings to us, yet it's not so hot that we don't want to dance at all.

Plus, the flowers are blooming in a way that can only spell r-o-m-a-n-c-e, which puts me in a very Shakespeare-y mood. Despite the fact that I'm single, I mean.

Ugh, not a nice thought. 19 years old. Single. Male. Definitely not the best position to be in.

…And now I'm thinking of _positions_. Curse my perverted mind! Okay, time to talk about something. I think we've been quiet for long enough.

"Where's Gaara?"

"Out of town visiting his family." Neji kicks a pebble on the ground and stuffs his hands in his pockets. His usually unfathomable eyes look truly sad. "Um -- pizza?"

"Sure," I repeat. We walk to the all-too-familiar pizza place and order a half-chicken, half-extra cheese pie. The usual. Except today, Neji seems detached. He doesn't pick off the pieces of chicken daintily like he usually does; he just munches in silence.

"You okay?" I ask him. Oh God, there's nothing like warm pizza after a hard workout. Especially if you're playing Mercutio (which is a huge role, if I may say so myself), because he's supposed to "frolic" and that means lots of leaps and spins. _Grand jetés_ and _pirouettes_. _Beaucoup d'allégro_, you know. Lots of lightness in my step, and it has to be very quick and perky. I love it! But it's quite tiring.

"I miss him," Neji says simply, and it's enough. I wipe my hand on a napkin (ew, pizza grease) and touch his elbow.

"When is he coming back?" I ask, because I can tell he wants me to.

"A week from now; next Friday." A pained expression crosses his face. "I wish he could see our premiere tonight, but he had to go to his sister's wedding to some guy named Shikamaru. He promised he'll watch it every night when he gets back though," he adds with a faraway smile.

Sometimes I'm jealous of what Neji has. I don't like Gaara like that -- for the last time, I told you! I'm not gay! -- but I like the idea of being so close to someone. I wish I could say I had that with Hinata, but the truth was, even though we said I love you and meant it, even though we did love each other...we weren't in love. I guess it's because Hinata's...the way she is, that we couldn't ever get to that place Neji is in with Gaara. It's been the same with my other girlfriends: we had fun, they were nice, I was fine and happy, but...well, it wasn't that there was nothing there. It was that there was something missing. I remember after the first few weeks, they would always try and go too far with me. They'd start hinting, making innuendos, moving their hands down instead of up when we were making out -- and I didn't like it. Most other guys think I'm crazy for not going all the way with those girls (okay, you caught me. I'm still a virgin), but it just didn't feel right. When I see Neji and Gaara, I know they don't have to push or pressure each other into taking the next step. They really are in love; I can see it.

Sometimes I just wish I could feel it. For myself.

"Neji?" I kind of feel like an idiot, but I honestly want to know. He looks up from his pizza. "Y-You're in love, right?"

It took all the courage inside me, and yet all I get is a nod. As if he doesn't need to think about it. As if he knows it, and Gaara knows it too, so he doesn't mind that other people know. It hurts, to know that kind of love exists. At least when you're not experiencing it.

"How do you know?" I whisper. Shit, I think I'm blushing. But because he's my friend, he just smiles at me.

"How do you know you love ballet?' he asks. What a ridiculous question!

"It's not the same at all! I just do," I laugh. "I don't care how weird it might seem to be a guy doing it. Just the thought of ballet makes me happy – even though it's something I have to work at, I know that I'll always feel this way about it, so I'll do anything I can to keep it in my life."

Now he's laughing. I don't get it, but I hate it when people know I don't get it, so I just wait for him to explain himself.

"You just described the way I feel about Gaara, Sasuke," he grins.

"…Seriously?" Well, that's weird. "I thought it was a different kind of love." He shakes his head.

"There is one love. There are just different amounts, and different ways of expressing it. When you love something, or someone, you can feel it, and you just know. You always want it with you, because of how it makes you feel. That feeling is there for me and Gaara, and it's strong as hell." He's beaming at me now, and I think even though he's known this for a while, it's the first time he's voicing it. "And it doesn't matter that we're two guys because it's like you said – we don't care how weird it might be to other people. I'll do anything I can to keep him in my life."

I can't help myself.

"Dude…that's so gay."

Shitshitshit – did I just say that out loud? Ooooops….Thankfully, Neji throws his head back and laughs.

"Yeah, well, so am I," he says once he calms down. I have a feeling he didn't expect much more than that from me.

But then I say something very un-Sasuke-like, though it's totally honest.

"I'm so happy for you," I say. "I wish I had that." He looks at me in surprise.

"But I thought you cared most about your career. Every girl that comes near you gets shot down in a matter of weeks, and you always tell us it's because dancing and making money is the most important thing to you right now!"

I give him a kind of apologetic grin.

"Wanna know the truth?" I lower my voice (pointlessly. There's no one we know around). "Those girls just didn't do anything for me. I don't know why, but I never felt what you feel. And I love ballet. I love dancing. But I don't love it so much that there isn't room for someone else." I can't believe I'm saying this. More importantly, I can't believe it's true. "D'you – um – d'you happen to know anyone who might be interested?"

Okay, I really don't have a clue why I said that. I don't want a blind date. I'm not that desperate. I mean, girls come up to me all the time, and I just don't feel what Neji's talking about. But it's too late to take my words back.

"You don't want that, do you." Thankfully, Neji knows me well enough to take them back for me. It's not a question. He rubs me on the arm in what would be a condescending (or seriously homoerotic, considering his – err- _preference) _gesture in any other situation, but for now it's just comforting. "Don't worry. If you're meant to fall in love, you'll find it. Or it'll find you. I remember feeling just like that" – damn, that faraway look is back – "and then I ran into the most beautiful red head in a restaurant and nothing's been the same since then. You'll find that someone too, Sasuke."

"You don't know that," I fret (yes, I fret. Deal with it).

"I do. Because Sasuke -- you're sweet, in your own way. You're young. You're spirited. You're fairly wealthy for a 19 year old. You've put on shows for hundreds of people. You're muscled. And – don't take this the wrong way because you know I'm taken – you're fucking sexy, to top it off."

Well, this is weird. My gay friend (taken or not, the fact is he swings this way. My way. And I do _not_) just said I'm sexy. Which is a total lie, by the way.

"Sasuke Uchiha is not sexy!" I protest. "Look at me, Neji. I'm goddamn paler than a cloud. My hair does this stupid pointy flippy thing in the back that no gel on earth will control. And come on – my fingers are way too thin!"

I hear myself and I realize what he's going to say a second before he raises an eyebrow and says it.

"Dude…that's so gay."

"Shut up!" I smack his hand away, but we're both laughing now.

"C'mon, sex kitten. We have to go back to the theater before Kakashi flips a shit." Neji starts to throw out our trash and I follow him through the door, still laughing.

Even though I'll never admit out loud that I have a friend (I'm supposed to be a loner), I think I have a pretty good idea of what it means to be one. Other people say _friends are people you can always count on _or _friends can always cheer you up_. Well, I guess that's true. But in my opinion, a friend is someone who can make you laugh when you want to just give up – even if they do it in such a weird way that everyone around you stops to stare at the two of you. The thing is, if you're really close, you won't care who's watching (even if in our case, it's two really old women who murmur _"Are they homosexuals?" _and make Neji laugh and say _"You're half right!"_) because it doesn't matter how stupid you seem as long as you have someone by your side.

With this in mind and Neji's arm playfully around my waist, I can walk towards three solid hours of even more rehearsal with a smile on my face. Tonight is the debut of Romeo and Juliet, which is the biggest show we've been in yet, after all. According to Kakashi, ticket sales are already skyrocketing. As we approach the dance studio, I can feel my heart start to quicken.

"Everything's going to change, isn't it?" I ask quietly.

"I kind of have a feeling we have no idea how much truth is in that statement," Neji replies. And I think he's right. I can feel it in my chest. It's more than just butterflies this time, or the aftermath of admitting to Neji how alone I really feel sometimes (which I'm almost 100 percent sure I'm going to regret tomorrow). There's a tugging at my chest that somehow makes me know my next words are true.

"Tonight will be monumental."


	2. Premiere

**Yes, yes, lemons on their way…but I like this plot, enough to want to develop it. So please bear with me :)**

**Dismiss the slight OOC-ness. Naruto's nervous, okay? He gets more dominating later…**_**trust me**_

**Still don't own anything except maybe the idea of Sasuke being the ballet version of Shakespeare's Mercutio.**

"I still think his leotard needs to be a size smaller," Kakashi says, running his hands across my stomach and my back simultaneously. Someone _needs _to get this guy better porn, I swear.

"For the last time, Kakashi!" The costume artist, a slightly scary young guy called Kiba, sounds super-exasperated. "Just let me do my damn job! Sasuke looks _fine_; trust me. Mercutio is supposed to be frivolous, not a man slut. Any tighter and he might as well be naked on stage."

I try – very hard – not to hear the word _exactly _slip out of Kakashi's mouth as he and Kiba walk away. I shudder. Curtain call is in fifteen minutes; I don't have time to spare on thinking about our perverted teacher.

"You ready?" Neji comes up behind me, looking absolutely stunning (-ly gay, of course, but there's nothing wrong with that) in his deep blue Paris outfit. We really lucked out in this one, role-wise. Paris and Mercutio…not bad, if I do say so myself. Which I do. Because it's true.

Which, of course, makes it all the more terrifying that we have just about a little over 10 minutes before we have to go out there and dance. I've done this probably a hundred times, but I still get nervous. Besides, this is my biggest role yet.

"Not on your life," I grin, trying to keep the mood light. He laughs.

"Don't worry. I'm shaking like an idiot here," he says, holding out a hand. It is indeed trembling an inordinate amount. "Fuck," he swears quietly. "I wish he was here."

"At least you have someone, you insensitive douche!" but I don't mean the insult and he knows it. We're just stressed and lonely, so without another word we hold hands very tightly, just for a second. Then we hear it—

"Places, everyone!" comes the cry of some frantic stagehand. The band starts, playing the familiar overture we've grown so accustomed to over the past few months, and Neji has to fly to the other side of the stage before the curtain goes up so he can enter from the correct position. My heart pounds into my chest as I hear the overwhelming echoes of applause fill the auditorium.

The curtain goes up, the lights come on, and I'm momentarily blinded – then my sight adjusts and I wish it hadn't. Performing onstage is one thing that you can do a hundred times and still get terrified about. The swamps of people, invisible in the dark except for their glowing eyes, seem to take up all the space in the theater. I just stare out at them, feeling sweat trickle down my back, thinking of absolutely nothing besides what it would be like to fall in front of them, not watching the delicate steps of Romeo or Juliet.

Until I hear my cue. The stream of notes that signifies Mercutio's entrance makes my feet move through no conscious volition of my own. The next thing I know, I'm onstage, and I'm smiling, because this is what I love doing. This is who I am.

The eyes staring at me disappear, and all I see is the stage and the scenery and the characters – not my fellow dancers, but the _characters_, Romeo and Benvolio, and I am not on the hard stage any more, but in sunny Italy. I'm teasing Romeo, with a skip in my step: _"Of course it's not love, my dear friend, you cannot have fallen in love with this Juliet yet! You barely know her!" _say my feet as they lift off the floor.

I don't need to concentrate on the movement. My body already knows it. It twists and contorts and flows into the proper shapes in time with the music. So instead, I _enjoy _the movement. I love the gasps from the unseen crowd when my legs spin me for a long time in the air, and the rush of wind in my face at a particularly large leap. I love it so much.

Too soon, my part is over, and I feet myself walking offstage. The other acts pass in a blur until it's my turn again, and I flutter back into Italy. Intermission comes and goes, and I ignore compliments and offers of pizza (from people who don't know me very well. Neji knows what I'm like when I'm performing). I don't think about anything except how my body moves, how Romeo is taking life too seriously, how I must convince him to lighten up without opening my mouth.

The next thing I know, Romeo and Juliet have fallen, dead, over each other's bodies. I always felt a bit of a sting in my eyes at this point during rehearsals, though I never let any tears out, and nothing is different this time. It's not the death that seems tragic to me. People die all the time, including children like Romeo and Juliet. It's the lost love that never had a chance to grow. Honestly, they were just starting to fall for each other, and they cut themselves off before they could truly experience—

I'm not making a very good case for the "Sasuke isn't gay" thing, am I?

I swear I'm not though. I've only ever been with girls before, and that's all I –

Oops, curtain call.

The deafening applause of the audience comes as a shock to me, yanking me harshly out of my Shakespeare-induced reverie, and I feel myself start to smile as I go out for my solo bow – I love it when they applaud everyone in the cast, but I can't help but think the applause gets particularly thunderous when it's just for me. The dancers of Romeo and Juliet get tons of cheers too, of course, and so does Neji, but it's definitely loud for me. Definitely. And that makes me happy.

I go back to the dressing room, where Kakashi assaults us with a big smile and a big hug for all of the male dancers (I wonder if he ever does this to the girls?).

"You were fantastic! Amazing premiere, everyone, great job! See you tomorrow at 2 so we can do it all again!"

Which of course, was greeted by the customary groans. My tired voice was included in that, though I know all of us are one hundred percent willing to put up with the grueling rehearsals since we get rewarded with the exhilaration of performance. Otherwise, we wouldn't still be here.

"Great job, bastard." Neji claps me on the shoulder, sweaty but grinning. He had already pulled his sweats over his leotard and slung his bag over his shoulder; no one sticks around to shower after a show. We all like to just get home.

"You too," I pant. "Meet for lunch tomorrow before rehearsal? One o'clock?"

"Not pizza this time. Come over to my place at noon instead; I'll make something, okay?" Neji is a not-so-surprisingly good cook. He had to learn, since Gaara didn't like to leave the house much. Mostly because he finds putting on clothes irritating when he's covered in – you know what? I don't like to think about that.

"Okay. See you then." I tug on my own sweats, ready for a nice cool shower once I get home. I wave to Neji and walk out of the dressing room, acknowledging compliments and tossing them back to whoever I feel deserves it. I walk with a bounce in my step through the auditorium, smiling at elderly women who giggle at me and quickening my pace when I see younger woman giggle with entirely different meaning. I can breathe easier when I get outside, where there are people who didn't see my performance. I love the attention – from faceless masses. When it comes to individuals who want to see more than my ballet moves, I have no patience.

I must seem like such a hypocrite. I want to find love, yet I shy away from most girls. I just…don't like the way they look at me. And I feel like, if I'm meant to be with someone, I'll feel it, the way Neji feels about Gaara! And I don't feel anything with those girls except mild irritation.

"Uchiha Sasuke?"

I stop. I look around for the cause of the timid voice.

"Uchiha Sasuke?" I hear it again, louder now. I spin to find –

Well, not an angel, but you could have fooled me at first. The boy looks to be about my age, with unnaturally large oceans of blue eyes and oddly intriguing scars down his cheeks. He stands almost as tall as me, though he could be my height, it's hard to tell as he slouches with his hands stuffed in the pockets of an sweatshirt. The reason I thought he was an angel, though, was his hair. Light blond and a bit out of control (not like the gelled, pinned down messes that belong to my fellow dancers), it poufs around his head, a glowing halo standing out in the moonlight.

"Uchiha Sasuke?" The voice doesn't match the angelic look. It's nervous yet slightly rough, as if it's unused to being nervous.

Oh. Right. I probably should stop gaping and answer the poor guy.

"Yes?"

His face relaxes a little, and I notice he's actually fantastically attractive.

"I saw your name in the program. I'm sorry for taking you aside like this. I'm sure you're tired and everything." He kicked the ground slightly, a little embarrassed now. "It's just…I go to the School for the Arts. Downtown. And it's my term assignment to study a piece of contemporary dance. I couldn't think of anything – see, I'm an art major, so I don't know that much about dance so my teacher had to recommend something – so I came here."

"And you want to do your assignment on Romeo and Juliet?" I ask confusedly. There's no reason for him to tell me this.

"Yes – but there's another part to the assignment." I could be wrong, but I think he's…blushing. "I have to study a performer in the piece as well. I'm supposed to interview them and stuff. And, uh, well, I--"

I get what he's saying, but I don't _get _it.

"You're saying you want to do a _project _on me? What exactly does that entail?" I'm only nineteen! I'm still used to _doing _projects, not being the subject of them.

"Well," he says, sounding more nervous than ever, "it means I have to interview you. Just a little bit of information, nothing too personal, of course. And…um….I'd have to paint you."

"What?"

"L-Like I said…I'm an art major, and I'm working on my oil painting unit. My teacher wants me to learn to convey art forms with other art, you know?" He is so nervous that it would be adorable if I wasn't so shocked. And very, very tired of course. "So it's not like you'd have to sit and wait for me to paint you. It just means that I'd have to observe you dance a few more times, and then you in your – um – regular environment. My course gave each student some money to watch performances, so I'll just come to a bunch of your next shows. And then I go home and paint you and you never have to hear from me again."

Yeah. Definitely blushing now. I let out a little laugh, which makes him jump slightly.

"Don't worry about it, dude, it sounds like fun. Just…loosen up a little, okay? Especially if you pay full price each night – part of that goes right into my paycheck," I wink. "I'm only nineteen, I'm not going to bite you."

His face brightens.

"Hey, I'm nineteen too! Cool! Sorry if I seem a bit nervous, it's just…."

Is it weird that my heart is pounding while I wait for him to say exactly why he's nervous?

"You're really, really good," he finishes with a halfway grin.

I don't know why, but I feel kind of…cheated. I don't know what I thought he was going to say, but I don't think it was that.

"Thanks!" I manage to keep my voice natural.

"So – when can we – err – meet to do some interviewing?" The eagerness in his voice almost demands a _right now is fine! _response, but my muscles are screaming in protest.

"Well, I'm really busy, but tomorrow morning? Around 9? My place?" Hopefully nine isn't too early for the guy, since all I really have are mornings til Sunday.

"Your place? Oh! Sure!"

I scribble the address onto the piece of paper he seems to have ripped from the air.

"I can find this no problem; it's not too far from my school," he says cheerfully. I flash him a quick grin.

"See you tomorrow, then! And don't worry about it. You're gonna ace this project."

He blushes again and I blink hard. Something weird fluttered inside my stomach as the boy's lashes did. Which makes me think of something.

"Hey," I call to him before we go our separate ways. "What's your name?"

He turns and runs a hand through his hair, a bit embarrassed he hadn't thought of introducing himself, I guess.

"Naruto. Uzumaki Naruto."

_Naruto._

Somehow I have a feeling I won't be forgetting that name.

I shake myself. What am I doing? This is just some guy doing a project. Gotta stop thinking like he's gonna change my life.

I tug my mouth into a smile again; it's not hard with him still grinning at me.

"Thank you so much, Uchi—"

"Call me Sasuke," I say, which widens his grin.

"Thanks, Sasuke."

"See you tomorrow, Naruto."


	3. Defying Them

**A/N **

**I would ****kinda**** kill to be Naruto in this chapter. **

**Still don't own anything, except maybe the idea of Naruto as an art student/oil-painter-in-training. I can't be sure though, so don't quote me on that one – there are a lot of fics out there!**

**Beware ****of the longer chapter and ****the explicit content. ****It gets more explicit later, but this chapter is rated M for a reason. You know the reason :)**

_Knock__knock_

Ugh. I hate it when dreams are so realistic they actually try to pull you out of sleep. It sounds like someone is at my door, but that can't be right because that guy isn't supposed to come over til nine, and I set my alarm to 6:30 like always.

_Knock, knock_, says the dream, more insistently this time. I've never once slept through an alarm, and I've been waking up at 6:30 basically since I was six. I groan and roll over, uncomfortably aware of the fact that if I can actually feel the sheets touch my skin, I'm most likely awake. Which means…

"S-Sasuke?"

No way in hell can I be dreaming that voice. It's too real, too nervous, too familiar.

"Naruto?" I call through the door, my voice thick with sleep. "What time is it?"

"Nine o'clock – did I wake you? I'm so sorry!"

I pry an eye open – holy crap, he's right. For the first time, I slept through an alarm.

"No, I'm sorry, my alarm must have malfunctioned or something," I say, rubbing my eyes and rolling out of bed towards the door. I was about to turn the knob when -- damn. I momentarily forgot I sleep shirtless. Well, too bad. I'm used to locker rooms and shirtless guys, and this dude's my age anyway. I pull open the door.

"Good m – " Naruto, the vision of a teen art student gone slightly punk with a torn old t-shirt and a messenger bag with a paint set slung across his chest, swears under his breath. He doesn't even look at my face, which is actually quite impolite, you know. His eyes stare a little too far below it, which makes me look down self-consciously, praying I was wearing boxers at least. I was. They were the nice ones too! With the blue stripes! So why was he looking at me?

"Good m- to you too, dobe," I toss him a smirk, which is kinda undermined by the huge yawn that can't help but follow. "Paint a picture. It'll last longer," I say in response to his staring eyes.

"That's what I'm here to do, isn't it?" He perks back into his usual happy self. "Where do you want to pose?"

My mind isn't functioning perfectly yet.

"You wanna paint first? What about the interview thing?"

He scratches his head nervously.

"Well, the art part is kind of the most important, and this _does _have a deadline…but if you're not up to posing right about now, we could totally just do the interview…" I look at the paint brush tucked under his halo of hair and find myself wondering what his painting of me will look like. I grin.

"How 'bout we do it simultaneously?" I move back into the apartment, allowing him to follow. "I mean, you wanna paint me in action, right?"

"Well, a few actions sketches, yeah, and then some paintings…"

"It's gonna take me a bit to get warmed up, so how 'bout you ask me questions while I stretch, okay?" I grab a pair of sweatpants and pull them over my boxers. "Sorry about the lack of tights – I just like to practice in sweats when I can."

"Sure, no prob. So where are you gonna warm up?"

I don't say anything; I just lead him to my living room.

"Holy crap!" He drops his bag on the floor in awe as I walk over to the _barre_.

"See, well…my family is kinda filthy fricken rich." I blush a little and look around at my living room. I guess it can't really be called that, since it's basically half a dance studio (giant mirror and all) and half a totally awesome den (giant TV and all). There's also this bigass wall-to-wall-to-floor-to-ceiling window, which is usually smothered in curtains, but is currently completely on display, given the fact that I was way too tired to close it last night. It bathes the room in a bright, sunny, light. "It's an Uchiha thing, really. This actually used to be all den, when this place belonged to my brother, but now he lives in the city, so he and my parents gave me the apartment, and paid for half of it to be made into a studio for me."

"This place is _amazing_," he breathes. Naruto walks around the room, touching everything he can. I just…watch him for a while. Despite his starving artist look, he practically glows in the brightness. His smile reaches into his eyes and tweaks them into big round blue bubbles of happiness. Unfortunately, he wanders over to the grandfather clock in the corner and I remember Neji exists and I'm gonna have to get dressed and meet him soon.

"Thanks. But hey, d'you mind if we get started?" I try not to sound too rude as I start to stretch, loosening the muscles in my arms.

"Sure!" He takes out a tape recorder. "You don't mind, do you? I want my hands free for sketches while we're talking."

"No problem," I say, even though it's kind of weird. I begin to stretch more, falling into a split and touching my forehead to my knee.

"Whoa." Naruto takes a seat, his back against the mirror, the tape recorder positioned by his leg and the sketchbook poised at the ready. "So – what do you do in your spare time?" His hand is already flying over the page. The real answer to that was, sadly enough, _dance_, but I didn't want to sound like a one-track-minded freak, so I thought of some other hobbies.

"Normal stuff. I go to the movies. I read. I sleep. I like to eat." I can feel my body start to loosen already, loving the feeling of it. I pull my ankle up behind my ear and I see him take a sharp breath and make the pencil fly even faster.

"How do you stay in shape?" His tongue sticks out of one side of his mouth when he talks. It's actually quite comical.

"I dance. Every day." No avoiding the response there.

"When did you know you wanted to be a dancer?" Jeez, he was flipping pages at an incredible rate. How fast could this guy sketch?

"Since I was three and decided walking was for poor bastards who believe in gravity." I laugh, even though I'm performing a total bridge now, and I'm entirely upside down. Through my thighs, I hear him laugh too.

"You don't believe in gravity?"

"Well" – and here I flip myself over to face him. I arch my back and my legs so my toes and hair touch, and I stare him straight in the eye – "It's not that I don't believe in it. It's more that I like to defy it."

All of a sudden, I realize just how close we've gotten. Those enormous eyes blink at me from mere inches away. Everything else fades….and then he gulps and speaks.

"Um…I think I've gotten enough sketches now. Could you pose for a painting? The action shots can wait til I've seen a few more performances, I think."

"Can I see the sketches first?" I ask, genuinely curious for some weird reason. He blushes.

"Okay…but don't get offended, okay? They're not that great." He turns his sketchbook towards me apprehensively. _Holy sh--!_

"Liar!" I can't help but exclaim. "Goddammit, you're fricken _good_!" And he is. I've never been much of one with the drawing, but I can still tell when someone has talent – and Naruto captured every tense line of my body, every muscle curve that makes a pose a pose. All within a few minutes.

The now-familiar blush spreads.

"Thanks," he says quietly. Nervously.

"I'll get into my tights to pose, okay? To make it more authentic." He nods distractedly and I hurry to pull them on. I don't know if Naruto remembers I don't actually wear _underwear _with tights. If he does, he doesn't show it. His eyes widen to at least three times their size, which probably should make me more uncomfortable than it does. "How do you want me positioned?"

"_What?_"

I fight to suppress a...well, I am sooooo not gonna call it a giggle. Just…no.

"For the painting?" I remind him, gesturing to the untouched paint set in his bag.

"Oh! Right!" He grins nervously and something weird happens to me. I don't just find him an attractive guy (trust me, anyone would). I am…attracted _to _him. I don't know how it happens but it does. I look at that grin and I can see how unnaturally beautiful he is. Not like the too-thin guys I spend time with during ballet hours. They're attractive, yeah, they have this silver delicacy about them, but they care too much about their appearances to be beautiful. Naruto is different. Full and darker and not silver at all, but golden. And…

Crap. Talking to me.

_What the hell am I __thinking?!_

"…with your arm above your head, if that's okay!" He finishes talking and setting up his paints simultaneously.

"Uh…okay…" I wish I had listened. I raise a shaking hand over my head and decide on something comfortable, an easy fourth position, with my ankles crossed and my other arm curved in front of me. I can't think about Naruto like this! Not only is he a he, I barely know him.

So I don't let myself think. I just watch. I hold my arms and lift my head like he tells me, and I watch him paint. It's remarkable. If dance is my element, this is his. There is such an intensity in his eyes I actually find myself jealous of the canvas. Now his strokes aren't hasty, but deliberate and delicate. He looks up at me every once in a while, with a furrowed brow, but after less than five minutes, he pouts.

"Can I ask you something? You can totally say no if it's too weird." He bites his lip and I just about faint. What the fuck. This can't be happening. Keep a straight face, Sasuke…

…ironic word choice, Sasuke…

"Yes?" I manage to choke out.

"Can I…touch you?"

It's my turn to widen my eyes.

"Excuse me?"

He bites his lip again.

"I'm sorry! But it really helps me to get the feel of what I'm painting. To get the texture, you know. I promise I'll stop if you tell me to." He looks so desperate that I can't say no.

For more than one reason.

This can't be happening, it can't, it can't…I can't be falling for him…and then I remember what Neji said. _When you love something, or someone, you can feel it, and you just know._ And I feel myself nodding.

"You can touch me," I whisper. For a moment, I worried that I was too intense about it, that he'd get disturbed. But he just smiles and thanks me and comes around the canvas. I don't move from my pose as his calloused hands shift over my bare chest, but I can't hide it any longer. I close my eyes.

"Sasuke?" His voice is nervous again and the hands stop moving. "Am I making you uncomfortable? Do you want me to stop?"

I open my eyes and he is right in front of me. He's still smiling, but his eyes go deeper than just a friendly smile. They're huge and filled with emotion and seriousness and something I can't quite pinpoint. I want to close the distance. I want to take him. I want him to take me. I can't believe this is happening.

"Don't stop," I say, quieter than before, and he doesn't. He moves his hands again, across my shoulders and my abs, and my chest, but now he isn't examining at my body. He is looking straight at me and he is leaning closer. "This isn't right," I lie to him and myself. "I don't know you. We're both guys. We met yesterday. This isn't how it's supposed to be. This isn't how they say it should be."

I didn't mean a word of it, but it had to be said. Thank God he somehow knows I didn't mean it, and he puts one hand on the crook of my back to pull me into his stomach. He's smiling, and his breath is on my face and I'm drowning in it.

"Sasuke…if you can defy gravity, you can defy _them_. Whoever they are." He brings his mouth close to mine, so I can just barely feel the graze of his lips with his next words. "Only if you want to, of course."

That bastard.

"Shut up and kiss me already," I growl, and he does and I melt. He is so incredibly gentle I actually can't stand it. His lips toy with mine, softly teasing them open. His free hand weaves itself into my hair and massages my scalp, while the hand on my back pulls me closer into him, which poses a serious problem between my legs that I can't ignore for much longer. So I fight back, using every toned muscle in my body to push him into the couch on the den side. At the last moment, he turns us around so that he's the one who crawls on top of me when we collapse onto the cushions, he's the one on top.

"You can rehearse for three hours straight and you can't maneuver yourself on top of a nineteen year old art student?" He's grinning and sweating and his hips press into mine without any effort. I groan in apprehension.

"I don't care how young we are, you'd better know what you're doing," I mumble through trying to kiss every bit of his throat I can reach. I've lost all sense of _this is wrong_. All I want is for him to fucking touch me, to get rid of this ache below my waist that's starting to hurt. I want his hands on me, and it should be a dirty feeling, but I really don't care. I want him want him want him—

"I have no idea what I'm doing, Sasuke," he says throatily, and a thrill shoots through me, partly because of his words, but mostly due to his deft hands pushing themselves through his skin-clinging tights. "But I'm gonna do my best."

His hand is warm on my already burning skin, and my eyes shut tight involuntarily as he starts to stroke me where I've never let anyone touch me before. His mouth never leaves my body, kissing and licking and biting. I try to move with him, I try to shake off his jacket and unbutton his pants, but he takes his other hand and pins my wrists above my head.

"N-No," I protest, panting with every movement of his hands between my legs. I struggle against him, trying to free my arms. "I – I _want _you –"

He moves his lips up from my chest, where they had been teasing my –

"Oh!" I can't help but thrust back up into his hand, kicking my tights completely off and leaving my body entirely bare. I open my eyes as much as I can. He's – "Oh, oh, ohh…" – doing something interesting with his thumb, it seems to be hitting a place that had never been touched before and I feel my entire body go limp, yet stiffen at the same time. His lips butterfly over my pressed-shut eyelids.

"You have me," he whispers. I want to say that's not what I mean, I mean _I _want _him_, but –

"_Oh…"_

He takes all of my length into his fist tightly and then everything goes white-hot. My eyes roll back into my head, I think, and that thumb just keeps on stroking. His skin is rough but his touch his gentle and it's too much. The tension that had been building inside of me seems to shoot up and down my spine and I think I'm calling out his name through his lips, which still haven't faltered from nibbling on mine, and I've never felt anything this unbelievably amazing ever before.

It seems to last forever and I never want it to end, but slowly the feeling starts to ebb away, though his hand keeps pumping, even after the tension in me explodes into it. And as it fades, I think to myself how I never let anyone do this to me before, do this _with _me before. Because it always felt wrong, even with girls I had known for months and months. Yet with this guy...this guy I've known for not even twenty-four hours…

"It feels right," I breathe.

His hand lets go of me at last and I moan a little disapproval. It was so _warm..._

I open my eyes and he sits on my bare stomach. He's still fully clothed (though the dampness in his pants suggests he wishes he wasn't), which I try to sneer at, but I'm still so weak from the aftereffects of…what we just did.

"I'm glad it feels right." He grins at me through sweaty hair and trembling lips.

I lean up to kiss him again and I realize – I never want to stop.

**Godawful chapter ending, I know. This is by no means over. We will soon see why Naruto stayed clothed in this one…and rectify that issue in upcoming chapters :)**

**Hope you enjoy so far!**


	4. Fallen Angels

**Warning: Don't own Sasuke or Naruto (much to my regret). Or Neji. Or…anything, really…**

**This is the longet fanfiction chapter I've written ever, I think…I hope it's okay!**

**Enjoy:)**

Surreal doesn't begin to describe it.

"I hope you know," I pant out through our fumbling lips, "that I'm _really _not like this. I don't usually let guys I've just met—"

"Jerk you off?" He grins at the cringe I can't control. Come (no bad pun intended) to think of it, that's probably why he used that term. He can tell it bothers me. Curse him. "Yeah, I figured. I know I don't really know you, but you don't seem like the type of guy who'd do this a lot."

I'd say all of a sudden I became aware of my uncomfortable nudity, but for some unknowable reason, it's not uncomfortable at all. I do become aware of it though, as it's kind of hard to ignore with Naruto…stroking me _there _again. There's no heat in it though, not anymore, no fiery passion in his touch with intent to bring me to climax. Now, it's just gentle stroking. I would have called it almost loving—

If we knew each other well to use that word.

"I'm not," I say, trailing a knuckle down the defined line of his jaw. He takes a playful bite at my fingers; I let him nibble and suck on them for a few moments, making me moan just a little bit more. I move the saliva-soaked digits to circle his mouth and his eyes flutter shut, the hand on my crotch not faltering once in its soft ministrations. "And I can't believe that just happened."

"I can," he says, moving his other hand up to run in through my hair, kissing my forehead, "and personally, I hope it happens again." At least he has the grace to blush, though he's still stroking me. "You feel good, Sasuke. And you taste good too." 

It was my turn to blush, trying and failing to keep blood from rushing straight between my legs at that thought of Naruto "tasting" me, an attempt not aided by that teasing hand. For a second, I almost feel used. This guy has almost no idea who I was, and he already has me naked and at his mercy. In normal circumstances, I should feel violated, but – it's not like he got any real satisfaction out of this. Which I don't really understand. I mean, it's not like I _want _him to…you know…_do_ me, since I'm not gay (ok, that particular argument seems to be wearing very, very thin. I guess I'm giving up on it) and I still don't know much about him. But come on then – is there any reason for him to have done what he did to me? To make me feel insanely wonderful while getting absolutely nothing in return? No, there isn't…unless you count the possibility of him actually wanting me to feel good, which just doesn't add up since I'm practically a stranger!

Argh.

All in all, it's quite an emotionally perplexing situation. Perplexing enough, in fact, that it makes me want to keep him in my life. It would be so easy to instruct the bodyguards at the theater to forbid him from re-entering. It would be so simple to tell my doorman I didn't want him in my house. It would be so simple to cut him out, to ignore him, to make him a distant memory. A mistake. But something is so intriguing about him that I just…can't. 

Well, it's more than that.

For some reason I don't want to.

Instead, I reach up, yanking at his hair with more force than before, using both my hands. Surprised, his body collapses into me, closing the space between us and pushing his fingers to grasp my shaft tightly. My eyes fly wide open and my breath comes in quick pants as I stare into his face, less than inches from mine. He really, truly, undeniably, is more beautiful than I had thought. Especially when he's surprised like this, with his (irritatingly still-clothed) chest is pressed into my heart.

"Then how about you taste me again?" I bite my own lip in what I hope is a somewhat inviting fashion. Man, I am inex_per_ienced at this! It's not the first time I've kissed someone, but it's the first time I've ever kissed them while having nothing covering me up…actually, it's the first time I've ever kissed someone while having something _to _cover up.

…eh. Guess if I get hard for guys and feel nothing for girls…that kind of just rips me straight (if you'll pardon the word) out of the closet, doesn't it. For some reason, I feel like I can tell him anything that's on my mind, a feeling I never had with Hinata. And also for some reason, I'm getting the feeling that I am way too submissive in our minutes-long relationship for my liking. Which is probably because I have no fucking idea what I'm doing…

"Naruto?" He's about to kiss me again, but he pauses obediently a millimeter from my lips to listen. "D-Do you m-mind"—damn, the pressure from his hand, which was now rolling my b…my bal…s…argh! It is _difficult _to think of yourself in these terms? Well, he was rolling…okay. Okay, I can do this. He was rolling my…argh, you know what two things he was rolling. He let his fingers move up and down and all around them as he waited patiently for me to speak, which wasn't easy for me to do, what with him massaging my – oh all right, my balls. 

"Do I mind what, Sasuke?" Ah, shit. If it's seduction tips I need, I should just look at his face. Moist with sweat and probably some other stuff that's my fault, his cheeks are flushed and soft-looking, with penetrating blue eyes breaking through the tan that coats them, and plush lips slightly parted, waiting. Wanting.

"D-do you mind that I'm not experienced? Like, you know, with guys. Because I'm not, you know. Well, you don't know. But now you know, and I"—

He silences me with a broad grin followed by a gentle kiss. Well, gentle, yeah, but kinda animalistic, with his tongue plunging deep around my throat. I kiss back fiercely, but I pull away to let him answer.

"Wanna know a secret?" he asks. Well truthfully, I want to fuck him into my couch. But sure. A secret. Something I'd probably want to hear if his hand wasn't driving my damn libido in_sane_. "This is my first time too. With…anyone."

Startled, I peer at him questioningly. He had seemed to have enough personal experience to know exactly what he was doing with his hands and his mouth, but there was nothing but embarrassed honesty shining back at my from the blue orbs.

"So you mean you've never had sex?" I'm really _too _surprised, considering my personal untainted-until-recently virginity, but well, he's fricken hot after all. He shook his head.

"I've never touched any…uh…_part_ of anyone before." His blush, amusingly, was growing brighter. "Actually, I'd never even kissed someone before." 

My eyebrows shoot up past my forehead. He looks so damn embarrassed that I can't help but laugh just a little. His hand hadn't moved for a while, which probably meant it was covered in the stuff coating my groin right now. Poor kid. That just doesn't seem pleasant. 

"Then you've got some major natural talent there," I grin encouragingly. His face spreads into a mirroring smile.

"Really?"

"Well, I think I'd know," I roll my eyes. Then I smile again, in a bit more of a predatory manner. I'm sick of being under him, no matter how nice it feels. And I'm sick of him still being _clothed. _I know that for once, I'm not thinking one hundred percent straight (on multiple levels), and you know what? I really, really don't care. Sometimes it's about letting go, right? "But it's not like you can't always use some tutoring, right?" I say with a smirk, though I have just about as little experience as him. "Why don't you let me show you something I think you'll like…" 

Without any idea what on earth I was going to do next, I use my grandjeté-strengthened hamstrings to wrap my legs around his waist and flip myself on top of him. He lands on the cushion hard, with a completely taken-aback expression plastered on his face. I pin his wrists to the couch with my own hands. He licks his lips and stares hungrily at my cock, which sits still half-hardened above his own, clothed one. I don't let him. I cut off his view with my lips, plundering his for all they're worth. He moans into my mouth, thrusting upwards. His legs encircle my back, pressing deep into my skin and clawing, though just lightly. What with us being on such even footing and all, I start to get this nagging need to assert my dominance. 

"Say my name," I murmur roughly, biting down on his lip.

"What?" He pants, frustrated and for some reason, desperate to break free from my hands. I assume he just wants to touch me again, and I can't have that right now. If I'm gay, I'm the seme. Me. _Me._

"Say my name." This time it's a growl, and I bring my knee up to prod the growing erection between his legs, just enough to make his head fly back in approaching ecstasy. I took the opportunity to ravage his throat with my mouth, sucking and licking. Trust me, this is _not _normal Sasuke behavior, but this is not a normal Sasuke situation. This is one in which – well, I don't really know what the hell this is, but I'm just going to go with it.

"Sasuke," he manages weakly. Hn. Good. Now I move a single hand down to the hem of his shirt and I'm about to edge my fingers up it but-- "_Sasuke,_" he says again. This time, there is more urgency in his voice, and a touch of hysteria, and he breaks away to grab my wrist.

"_What_?" I nearly exclaim. God, I want him so bad.

"I – um – I thought – I thought – oh! You said you were busy today!" He gulps. I wonder if that was actually what he was thinking. "It's almost eleven – don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Oh _fuck_." Alright so I'm a bit of a – well, not a diva. Never a diva. Just…whatever it is you call a guy who takes about an hour minutes to get ready to leave the house, you know. And if I was meeting Neji at noon, and it took me fifteen minutes to walk there, and it would probably take a little extra time in the shower to wash the cum off my stomach, and my synchronized-by-satellite-clock is correct in saying that it's currently twenty minutes to eleven – I'm screwed. And, very unfortunately, that means Naruto is not. 

He actually seems a bit…relieved? As he clambers out from under me?

"I'll leave you to get dressed then," he says, flustered. He bends down to lay a lingering kiss on my lips, cupping my chin in his hand. Then, with a "See you at the show tonight!" he disappears and the next thing I know I'm lying on my sticky stomach, plastered to the couch, with the slam of the door echoing in my head.

Bewildered and severely sexually frustrated, I stagger to the bathroom. Forty-five minutes and one _very _cold shower later, I'm blow-drying my hair and thinking hard. I still don't think I'm gay, though. I don't like guys in general. But I like _him_. A hell of a lot. I keep thinking about him all the way to Neji's house, which is partly why I arrive nearly twenty minutes late.

"What kept you so long?" Neji asks as he opens the door, inviting me into a house filled with the scent of fresh steak and pasta. I debate whether or not I should just lie to him, but I know it really doesn't matter. There's something about Neji, something in those pale eyes that sometimes make others mistake him for blind, that can see more of me than I ever let on. He always knows when I'm lying to him. When it's appropriate, he conceals the fact that I'm hiding the truth, but I know he knows it anyway. Besides, I kind of want him to know. He has Gaara, after all…

"I – I was – er – " Damn. How the hell do I _phrase _what just happened? Neji looks me once over and he knows the answer is more than just _I overslept _or something. 

"Come inside," he says calmly. 

The Hyuuga mansion is about twice the size of my place, and about one million times more awesome – everything from pool tables to gigantic, walk-in refrigerators to floor-to-ceiling TVs to Neji's bed, which is about the size of my room. He leads me into the kitchen and sets a heaping plate of carbs in front of me, takes his own plate, and waits. I don't wait, I pick up a fork and knife and employ all the Uchiha poise to pound into the food like a starving person while still looking calm and cool. All of a sudden, I realize I'm ravenous – I also realize that thanks to Naruto, I had forgotten about breakfast. 

For some reason, I don't really mind. He was delicious enough to make me forget…

Shit. Thinking about Naruto makes an uneasy stiffening occur below my waistline. Not now. Not in front of Neji. All right, better start talking or this will get awkward.

"I was – I was with someone this morning," I growl, not meeting his eye.

"Ah. And did you enjoy his or her company?" Neji was thoroughly amused by this.

"Yes," I grumble. "V—very much so."

"I'm glad," Neji grinned through a delicate mouthful of spaghetti sauce. "You deserve to enjoy the company of someone other than me – once in a while."

"Hn." I was almost lost in thoughts (and Neji's perfectly seasoned filet mignon), wondering about Neji and Gaara and if I'd ever have that with Naruto or if this was just some fling – though it didn't really seem like it. He seemed to really have…enjoyed making me feel like that.

"So," Neji says, putting down his fork and looking at me intently, "who is he?"

"Well, he's this nineteen-year-old art student who has to do a project on a performer, and he picked me, so he came over this morning to paint me and interview me, and then – wait!" What the hell! "I never told you it was a guy!"

Neji's grin broadens, the bastard.

"Technically, you just did." 

I raise a hand to slap him across the face, but he catches it easily. I sigh as I feel a resigned blush creep across my cheeks.

"How did you know?" I ask quietly. It's times like these when I retreat behind my hair. I let the dark bangs fall forward and cover my eyes. This time, though, Neji doesn't let me. He leans over to tuck my hair behind my ears before turning back to his plate. I look at him, pained.

"Eat your food, Sasuke, I'm guessing you skipped breakfast for this guy." Neji knows _everything_, dammit! "And how did I know? Well, girls never make you this nervous." He smiles. "Or this happy."

"Shut the fuck up," I mutter. But yeah, I pick up another bite of steak.

"So what's his name?" Neji asks politely.

"Uzumaki Naruto." Just saying it nearly makes me hard again, what the fuck!

"Cute," he laughs. "Like the fish cake. So, Sasuke – what did you guys _do_?

My eyes shoot up to glare at him. 

"That's private!"

"But you want to tell me," he states matter-of-factly, and fuck, he's right. I know he's looking at me, and I know he expects me to not meet his eye when I tell him. So I stick my chin up in defiance, trying very hard to maintain my Uchiha-cool, and look at him directly, even though my voice tremors with my next words.

"He – he touched me." A warm pit began to build in my stomach at the memory. "A lot."

"And you liked it, didn't you. A lot." Once again, it's not a question. I nod anyway. "I'm happy for you!" And he sounded it, except there was a hint of something else in his voice.

"I just can't believe it happened so fast," I exhaled, shaking my head. "I don't even know him! I mean, if I was ever to consider going gay, I always would have thought – " I cut myself off. These were dangerous waters. We had a Gaara to think about, and a Naruto now…and even if we didn't, I never really felt _that _way about my long-haired friend. But I'd thought of it. It's pretty much impossible not to, when you're friends with someone who swings towards your sex, even if most people won't admit it, even to themselves. The point is though, I don't want that with Neji, and I know he doesn't want it with me. So why the hell did I say it?

And why the hell is his chair next to me instead of across the table like it was a moment ago?

"I would have thought so too, Sasuke," he whispers in my ear. I swallow. Hard. But there's nothing but nervousness in my heart now, and nothing but sadness in his voice. We know we're not for each other. But still…"Yet we don't fit each other like that. We're much better off like this, as friends. You don't want…"

"No, I don't," I say quietly. And I don't. Even with Neji so close to me, I just want Naruto. And I can see Neji's hand out of the corner of my eye, holding tightly onto his shoulder, where Gaara engraved a tattoo with the kanji for love to match Gaara's own tattoo, to mark them as lovers. So when he says:

"Me neither."

I believe him. Still, I turn, and his lips are so close to mine, and we both lean in. His hand is gentle on my thigh; my fingers are loose as I run them through his hair. 

It's a kiss, nothing more. Because once you know something is out of your reach forever, you want it all the more – especially when you never wanted it before. So it's a kiss, and it's soft, and I feel his tongue on mine, but only for a moment, and I don't feel anything else. Not a tightening in my pants, not a quickening of my heart, nothing except his lips on mine and then we pull apart, and we know we'll be friends forever.

"Anything?" he asks.

"Nope," and I mean it. It makes me smile, because that means what I felt with Naruto wasn't just some desperate-guy thing. I really, somehow, care for him a lot. And I care for Neji too, but not in that way. "You?"

"Nah." He grins, brushing the hair out of his eyes. "I guess we're with the right people after all."

I smile back, and then we laugh, and then he hugs me, and it's not awkward at all.

"I guess we are."

I help him clean up the dishes, then we grab our stuff and walk to rehearsal, talking and laughing all the while. There's no longer any trace of awkwardness between us, though there hadn't been much before. We're entirely comfortable with each other – as friends.

Then his phone rings.

"Hey!" A smile lights up his face so brightly I know it has to be Gaara on the other end. I grin knowingly (though really, I don't know much) and back up a little, letting him walk ahead of me so he can have his privacy. I can still hear him though. "I miss you too. How's Temari doing? … A what-storm? Sandstorm? … Postponing the wedding how long?" Neji stops walking. "So when is it going to be? … Can't you come back before then, and go back for the ceremony? … Well, they can get other people to stay with your sister!" He sighs, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand hurriedly. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. It's just that I really do miss you. … Okay, but try by then, okay? I want you to see the finale, at least … Okay. No, no, it's okay, stop apologizing. You're doing the right thing. I'll be fine. … Okay. … Yeah, sure. Don't worry about it; focus on Temari. … Yes. _Yes_. … I love you too. I'll call tonight. Bye."

Shit.

Neji puts his hands to his face. I have no idea what to say. I walk up to him and put an arm around his shoulder. Asking _are you okay_ seems just stupid, because clearly he isn't. 

"I'm sorry," I say, because I don't know what else to.

"The twenty-fifth," he replies hollowly as he leans into me. "He comes back the morning of the twenty-fifth." Ugh – the twenty-fifth is the final day of Romeo and Juliet. Gaara will only be able to catch it if his trip is perfectly planned out. And worse than that, it's almost two weeks away. Poor Neji…but then he seems to compose himself. "Well, no time to dwell on it now," he says, straightening up and striding into the theater. "We have four hours of rehearsal and a performance tonight. Let's go dance." I nod and follow him, and then all thoughts of Naruto and Gaara were pretty much pushed out of our heads for the next few hours as we danced to block out the confusion.

But after the performance, there was a certain blond waiting outside the theater. 

"Did you watch it again tonight?" I ask. He nods. 

"You were fantastic. Again." Naruto looks at Neji, who's standing by my side with a knowing look in those eyes. "You too!"

I remembered my manners a fraction too late.

"Naruto, this is my fellow performer, Neji. Neji, this is my – uh – this is Naruto." What the hell _are _we, anyway? They shake hands, then Neji fakes a yawn and bids us good-night. I embrace him briefly, whispering _it'll be okay _into his sweaty hair, and he grins and says he knows. He mouths "have fun" at me when Naruto's not looking, and I roll my eyes.

"Hey," I say to Naruto once Neji leaves. I kick the ground in embarrassment. 

"Hey," he replies laughingly, and leans to kiss me. It's entirely different from kissing Neji, and I smile, because I know Naruto's the one I want to be kissing, always. Though I still don't know him! Then, almost as if he was reading my mind, he breaks away and says, "You must be tired. Do you want to grab a bite to eat before you go home? I'll pay."

I smirk. 

"Did you just ask me out?"

"I guess I did," he says with an almost nervous smile. "I passed a diner on my way over here, and it looked pretty good. I mean, if you want to just go home and sleep, I'll understand too – " I cut him off by laying a finger to his lips.

"A diner sounds great."

Once we got there, we realized how much we had in common.

"Final Fantasy? Seriously? I woulda thought you were too cool for that!"

I shake my head, laughing through a mouthful of corned beef sandwich.

"_No _one's too cool for Final Fantasy. Though I do like to take some time off in between shows and go up to the woods, you know, just to get away from it all. I like to write." I do. I've never told anyone that before though – because I was always worried people would think I was gay. Ironic…

"I like to write too! Not as much as I like to paint, but I've been doing it just about as long." He points at me in what _would _have been a serious face, except for the soup in his mouth and the grin playing about his eyes. "You are so gonna show me your stuff."

"Fine, fine, I will," I blush, though not too much. 

He pays the check, not letting me put down a cent, and we talk all the way back to my place. It's like being with Neji, except the whole time my heart's pounding and I know his is too. And without asking if he wants to come in, I unlock the door for him and we stop talking. Without turning on the lights, we fall into each other's arms, and then we fall again, this time onto my bed, instead of the couch.

The next thing I know, my shirt's on the floor and he doesn't seem to care that I was dancing for nearly eight hours straight and my skin must be disgusting, he kisses me and kisses me and goes lower and lower and then his hand is on me again.

"Naruto – ah!" I shut my eyes tight as cold air rushes around my erection while he whips off my boxers. "Why won't you let me" – he grabs me roughly and starts to move again, all the while letting his lips trace my nipples– "I mean, this time, maybe I should be the one to – "

"Shh," he murmurs huskily. He kisses me. "You're so beautiful when you close your eyes."

I want to be the _seme_, dammit! But I melt at his touch and do as he says, my eyes fluttering closed. And he makes it so good I know I can wait to be the seme. I can even wait for him to _actually _screw me, since we aren't quite there yet. But that's okay. I can wait. He curls his fist around me and kisses my eyelids gently.

"Beautiful…" he repeats. 

Just before I know I'll lose control, I reach up to grab his collar and wrap my legs around his waist.

"Naruto," I manage – oh, God, bright white lights are flashing in front of my eyes, my muscles are tensing, oh _God _ -- "I think I'm falling for you."

And _just _before my senses explode into him, I hear his voice, angelic.

"I've already fallen."

**TBC ASAP…**


	5. Daydreams come true, babe

…**That wasn't "soon" at all x.x oh goodness, I'm so sorry! If anyone's still reading, well, I'm done with final exams now, so I can write again. Sorry! Hope you still enjoy this story. Smut in this chapter to make up for it x.x**

**Thank you **_**so much **_**for the reviews and faves and alerts and everything – I checked my email for the first time in weeks right before I got on the plane to go to China (which is where I'm writing this now) where I'm spending some time, and **_**God **_**all the Fanfiction alerts had built up! At any rate, reading the review made me realize I've neglected Sasuke and Naruto much too long.**

**I don't own Naruto, and thank goodness for that. I'd never make the deadlines. We'd still be watching the Chuunin Exams if I was in charge.**

The next few weeks barely register in my mind, because I can't believe they're happening to me. Almost every evening is a swish and a rush of the most fun role I've ever gotten to perform, almost every day is a mixture of hard practice where Neji and I are more comfortable with each other than ever, and almost every night, Naruto is waiting for me outside the dressing room, and I take him back to my apartment, and almost every night, he touches me and it feels new each time. Recently, he's taken to adding his mouth instead of just his hands, and it's like nothing I've ever felt before. The first time, about two weeks after we'd met, came as such a shock…

_He had thrown all my clothes onto the floor, as always. I had pulled him on top of me as we fell to the bed, kissing him all over. Like always, I tried to touch him back. I tried to pull his shirt over his head, dig my fingers under the fabric of his jeans, but like always, he wouldn't let me. I had become accustomed to it already, him being so obstinate about being dressed, that I had come to accept it for the meantime. I wasn't very pleased about it, but what could I do? Every time I brought it up, he'd just change the subject._

_Without breaking the cantabile kisses, his hands found their way between my legs. I groaned his name as he started the routine, stroking me, petting me at first. Then he would start to pump harder, grinning and kissing me as I shook and sighed beneath him, til he'd take me full in his fist and start playing with both hands, teasing, tugging until I couldn't control myself any longer. _

…_At least, that's what usually happened. Not this time, though. _

_This time, when his hands started the petting, it was much more gradual than usual. I thought he was just playing with me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and complained in his ear, "No fair." But as he pulled back to look me in the eye, I saw that he seemed to be debating something with himself._

"_What is it?" I asked. His hands were so tentative that night. "Is something the matter?" I tried to sound concerned, because I really was, but some part of me barely had the mental capacity to think, much less care, with his hands around me. But then I started to worry. Was he getting tired of me being the only one actually getting to…well…_finish_? He looked down and saw me panting, trying, futile, to maintain my composure._

"_You're not…bored with this, right?" he said suddenly._

"_Of course not!" I exclaimed, relief washing over me at such a silly question. "Idiot. Do I look bored?"_

_He laughed at me._

"_Well, I suppose not. I just was wondering if maybe I should try something new."_

_My heart jumped. Did he mean – was he going to let me take off his clothes? Was he going to let me touch him back? Was he going to let us actually be together?_

_And had I just ruined that?_

"_You can try something new!" I said, much too eagerly. "I – I mean – um – I wouldn't mind if you tried something new. That would be okay."_

_He laughed again and brought his face close to mine._

"_Okay." _

_He started to kiss me again, deep, passionate kisses that I'd somehow come to thrive on. I bit my lip to hold back the embarrassment of a gasp as his mouth made it's way down my chest for the first time. He paused then, and I had to fight to stop myself from pressing our bodies together. I found myself hating clothing manufacturers at that moment, for creating the barrier between us._

"_You should know," he said, his voice drifting up, apprehensive, from where his cheek rested on my chest, "I really have no idea what I'm doing."_

"_I trust you." It was meant to be sarcastic, but I wasn't quite sure why, and it certainly didn't come out that way. _

_He beamed at me again and gave my collarbone a few little licks before latching his mouth onto my nipple and sucking, rolling his tongue all around it. My back arched into the sensation as I felt my erection start to throb. Too soon, he pulled away and giggled._

"_It's so hard!" He exclaimed. He examined the nipple in great interest, as I lay in increasing frustration while he sat on my hips (still fully clothed). Naruto flicked at it. "Oooh, it's so pink, too. Did I do that?"_

_I reached up and yanked at his shirt._

"Yes,_ moron, you did that. Now keep doing it before I hurt you."_

_He just bent and grinned and pecked me a kiss._

"_Please?" I added grudgingly. He held up his hands in mock affrontation._

"_Hey, I was gonna anyway. You don't gotta beg."_

"_Shut up." I was blushing so damned hard, and that wasn't the only thing so damned hard. No one's ever turned me on as much as this guy, though I'd rather have a rabid group of girls tear me apart than tell him that. _

_He relented then, and went back to trailing kisses down my body. He stopped when he got past my stomach, pushing his tongue into my belly button a few times, then he looked up at me and gulped._

_I looked away. I wasn't going to force him into anything, God no. If he wanted to, he was welcome, but I had no idea what – _

_In one fluid motion, I felt my erection become engulfed in hot wetness._

"_Naruto!" My voice didn't sound like my voice anymore. I didn't want to look down, I didn't want to see him kneeling at my feet like a puppy doing everything for me. My eyes burned with the sensation of his lips straining to reach every inch of my arousal, but he started to cough and had to pull back. He compensated by rubbing me with his fingers again, only at the places his tongue couldn't reach._

"_Sorry," he said apologetically. My eyes shut tight, my chest heaving as he pulled back a bit and spoke around me, the vibrations of his speech and the movement of his tongue as it formed the words making my back arch and my hands clutch at the bedsheets. "You're just so _big._"_

_Already my mind was turning numb and exploding at the same time._

"_Naruto." I was blushing furiously now. "I – I'm going to – I don't want – uh – ah! – er – on you," I finished lamely. He ignored me and kept licking, sucking hard as his hands continued to massage the parts of my crotch his mouth couldn't. "I'm – serious! I'm going to – "_

_He pulled away suddenly and I heard a guttural moan that nearly disturbed me til I realized it came from me, and then it disturbed me more. _

"_It's okay." He was smiling, a broad smile, even though his mouth was shiny with wetness and his hair stuck to his face. "I'm doing this because I know what you look like, I know what your voice sounds like, I know what you feel like, and now I want to know what you taste like." He leaned forward and kissed the corner of my mouth with moist lips. "Everywhere."_

_I felt myself go unnaturally weak at his words._

"_You didn't mention smell, you idiot," I said, breathless. "Can't you even count the five senses?"_

_He laughed quietly, burrowing his nose behind my ear and breathing deeply. _

"_Fine," he whispered. "Now I know what you smell like. And it's very fragrant. And manly, of course," he added as an afterthought. I tried to scoff at him, but I couldn't stop the feeling of building pressure in my groin, and it rendered me incapable of too much motion. "You're very manly. Can I go back to what I was doing?"_

_All I could do was nod, because he didn't wait for my consent before lowering his head again. _

"_Naruto, I – I'm – "_

_And then I couldn't talk anymore. With a moan and a spasm, I couldn't hold back any longer. My entire body curved toward him as orgasm took over, kicking all my senses into overdrive and sending jolts of pleasure through me. Through the sensation, I registered that everything that was coming out of me was going directly in his mouth, and when it was over, I shifted away and rolled over, shaking with the aftermath of sex and embarrassment. I hugged the pillow. _

"_Sasuke?" His voice sounded as if he was smiling. "Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"_

_I shook my head. God, this was too embarrassing. I didn't want to turn around, I didn't want to see him, I didn't want to see what I had done all over him. I'd never been in a situation quite like this before._

"_Then will you look at me?" he asked. I shook my head again. God, my heartbeat hadn't even slowed yet. He laughed again and I felt his lips brush my shoulder. "It's okay. I liked it."_

"_Liar." My voice was hoarse._

"_I've never lied to you!" He sounded so hurt when he said it I realized he had taken me seriously. I sighed and rolled over, my heart jumping again when I saw his face, beaming happily like a child who'd just gotten a huge ice cream cone. He was licking his lips and he seemed to be enjoying it. I blushed again, hating myself for it. _

"_Fine," I said softly. "It's just – well, it's embarrassing. I'm not used to being dominated like this." He grinned._

"_You think I'm dominating you?" He shifted forward so he could kiss my collarbone as he talked. "That's awesome! Well, I know I for one liked that. You're delicious." He licked his lips. "Mmmm. My new favorite flavor."_

_I shuddered._

"_Don't say it like that. It's disgusting." I muttered. _

"_No, it's not, Sasuke, it's not disgusting if neither of us thinks it is. It's perfectly natural, and I liked doing it." He studied me intently, slightly worried. "Hey, but tell me seriously. Was it okay?"_

_I rolled my eyes. Does he think my body would release to something that wasn't at least "okay"? I _do_ have some level of self-control. _

"_Idiot," I said fondly, brushing back his hair. "Of course."_

_He grinned up at me and I couldn't help but chuckle, even if I was still embarrassed. I love that grin. Mostly because it's usually followed by him saying my name. I like when he says my name, sometimes. I like the way the syllables sound on his idiotic tongue. S.a.s.u.k.e. I think he likes saying it too. Sasuke, he says. Sasuke. Sasuke—_

"Sasuke?"

His voice jolts me out of my memories and I remember where I am. I'm home, drowsing in front of the T.V. It's mid-morning and Naruto was still asleep when I woke up, curled, fully clothed, on my bed next to me. We'd both fallen asleep last night, after he touched me again, and this morning I didn't want to wake him, so I just planned on watching some lame T.V. until he woke up, but I'd started reminiscing instead.

With a smalljolt of horror, I realize the memory had turned into something of a wet dream. This was especially bad because Naruto had sleepily walked over and was now sitting on my lap. Oh, damn. I try to inconspicuously push him off, but instead he leans forward and kisses my forehead.

"Good morning," he says, tugging his lips into that grin I love.

"Good morning," I reply, nervousness building in me, hoping he won't notice my little _problem. _"Did you – uh – did you sleep well?" I try to distract him.

"Ye-eah…" he says slowly, "but I had a funny dream." He smiles – I know that smile. It's his naughty smile. It means whatever he's going to say next is something too inappropriate to say in public – though usually, he says it anyway, the idiot.

Fantastic.

"Funny?" I ask, willing the aftermath of the memory to somehow go away. It didn't work, my sweatpants remained as moist as ever. I swallowed hard. "Funny how?"

"You were in it," he whispers. Crap. He was kissing around my face now. If his mouth keeps traveling downward, he was going to find a surprise…oh, _God_. "But your clothes weren't."

Shoot me.

"Um – great. Could you get up for a second? I have to – um – make breakfast."

He pulls away, surprised and hurt. Shoot me _now_, goddamnit, why are there no random snipers when you need them?

"Now?" Naruto's hand, clumsy as always, tugs at my hair a little too roughly. I've come to realize that he _is_ inexperienced, but eh. So am I, after all. And it's a bit endearing on him, honestly. None of the guys at the ballet academies seem to be inexperienced at _anything_, not that I'd know about their sex lives. "I'm not hungry yet. Did you have any dreams?"

"No!" I say too fast. "I – I was just daydreaming on the couch. Seriously, breakfast. Please."

"Sasuke?" As he pulls back more, he shifts in my lap, and I shut my eyes. I know he's felt it now. "What's wro—_oh._"

Shootmeshootmeshootme. Jesus Christ, fetch the cyanide. Cobra venom, lethal injection, anything anything _anything _but this.

He giggles and pulls away to examine the stain.

"You _did _have a dream. Daydreaming is dreaming, you know." He grins eagerly, already untying my sticky sweatpants. "So tell me about it – was I in it?"

"It was more of a memory," I say grudgingly. He looks up, expectant. "_Yes, _you were in it." He laughs in glee. Seriously, man, Alcatraz is kinder than the torture of this situation. "It was of the first time you…stopping just using your hands."

Why didn't I lie to him?

Why _couldn't _I lie to him?

"How 'bout a repeat performance?" he says. From his tone, I can tell, he's trying to be coy. I chuckle. "Sasuke…Sasuke-san…you want it, right? You want me to make your dream come true?"

"Shut up."

He was already in the process of pulling off the sweatpants when the phone rang and I jolted up.

"Shit! It's the 25th!" I exclaim. The last day of Romeo and Juliet! With rehearsals almost all day, starting at 10, with a short break before the performance at 8pm. "What time is it? That must be Neji calling to say he's coming over so we can go to practice together!"

He curses under his breath.

"Oh hell, I forgot, I'm sorry. Um" – he glances over my shoulder at the clock – "almost 9:30."

"Are you kidding? _Fuck_ me!" I say without thinking. His eyes meet mine and we're breathing very hard – but then we both burst out laughing.

"Maybe later, babe," he says, climbing off me. "For now, I'm gonna get the phone and tell Neji you're running late and you'll meet him at the theater, and you're going to take a shower and get ready to go. I'll make you a sandwich or something to eat on the way."

"Thank you!" I kiss him on the cheek and run to the bathroom. "Hey--" I say over my shoulder, "don't call me babe."

He just laughs.

**I don't know about you or your friends, but instead of "fuck", sometimes my friends and I say "fuck me" in really rough situations. I hope we're not the only ones, or that last scene must sound weird. –hopes you guys understand- So yeah…I'm so sorry about the wait, and I'm already writing the next chapter, so don't worry, I'm back on my proverbial feet now!**

**We're nearing the climax of this story (and trust me, I mean that in **_**every **_**sense of the word –wink-) so all reviews are much appreciated xD Hope this chapter was okay! **


	6. The Beauty of a Fox

**A/N Usual warnings apply, except to a higher level. In other words, this is YAOI, this is SASUNARUSASU, this is BOYXBOY and this is SMUT and SEX. This is like, the longest fanfiction chapter I've written…and it is GRAPHIC. Please, please, please do not read this if those words don't appeal to you. Oh, and beware some side-couple smut too. Someone recommended some side-couple yaoi, and I thought it was a great idea! Thank you!**

**Also beware – the personalities of the characters in this fic might be considered way OOC. See, to me, it's just the way they'd react if they were put in this AU, so that's how I'm writing it. Sorry if it doesn't work for you. **

**I know "babe" doesn't really exist in Japanese – or if it does, I don't know the translation. I apologize if that doesn't really make sense!**

**Still don't own anything except maybe a leotard-clad Sasuke performing Shakespeare in ballet. **

**Thank you so much for the reviews and faves! I'm so damned glad people enjoy this!**

It's just about thirty minutes to eight o'clock, and I don't know where the day's gone. We've rehearsed so much I can't feel my muscles anymore, but I know they know what to do. Every time my eyes close in a blink, I can see the steps, one, two, three, _grand jete, grand plie, et arête! Et repete. Et repete. Le position quatre, une autre plie, et – pirouette!_

"Sasuke?" Neji's voice jolts me out of the mental reverie. I'm sitting on the bench Naruto left me at after he took me to a quick dinner after rehearsal, with my head in my hands, watching my limbs perform the steps through my eyelids. Neji has come out of nowhere, but I look up at him, and I know what he's going to say before he says it. "Gaara's not here yet."

I don't know what to do. I've never seen him this distraught before. His pale eyes, despite the talent of the make-up artists, are almost listless and invisible in his despair.

"I know it's stupid," he continues quietly. "I know there will be other performances, and I know this isn't his fault. But it's just that it's been so long since I last saw him, I guess I feel like I've been waiting for this night. I guess I figured waiting would be worth it if he could make it tonight. I know that doesn't make much sense, I just – "

His voice breaks off, and I understand, though I realize with a bit of a jerk that before Naruto, I probably wouldn't have. I don't touch him, or take his hand, because those gestures just don't seem to fit. At the same time, I don't know what to say. I sit on the bench, and he stands, and he's not crying – God, Neji will _never _let people see him cry – but in his eyes was emotion much deeper than the dramatics of tears. There are times when crying can be the most powerful act; this wasn't one of them, and so the tears didn't come to him.

"Sasuke?" This time the voice is one that makes my heart skip. Sure enough, when I look over Neji's shoulder, Naruto is standing there. But I feel a wide, relieved smile spreading across my face, because my hunk of sexy isn't alone. "Sorry to come backstage so close to curtain, but this guy said he was looking for Hyuuga Neji, and he seemed really intense about it, and I figured Neji'd be with you."

Thank you, Naruto.

Gaara clearly hadn't had time to clean up or anything, in fact, he's still carrying his luggage, a large, gourd-shaped sack he carried on his back. But his dark-rimmed eyes are fierce and clear, and they're aimed at Neji's loose ponytail. Neji still hasn't turned around, I guess because he doesn't want to see if it's true yet.

"Neji." Gaara's voice is as electric as the fire of his hair, and even though he's so fascinating, I can't help but love how soft Naruto looks next to him. Soft. What a funny word for that boy. I don't think I've mentioned his favorite color – it's loud, it's obnoxious, it clashes _horribly _with his hair and eyes – it's orange, and his t-shirt is glaringly tangerine tonight. Yet it's quirky, and it's interesting, and it's _nothing _I'd ever go for usually – so I like it.

At Gaara's voice, Neji turns around. He only takes one moment to stare at his lover before closing the distance between the two of them in three steps, enveloping the smaller boy in a rough kiss.

Naruto turns an embarrassed shade of pink as they start to moan, whispering in each other's ears. One of Gaara's knees slides between Neji's legs, and at that, Naruto steps over to me and we quietly walk through the adjoining room.

"Neji's going to smear his make-up," I say, shaking my head. "Kakashi-sensei's not going to be pleased." Naruto laughs, leaning on my shoulder, and I smile at him. "Really, though, thanks for bringing Gaara over. I'm glad he could make it."

"No problem," Naruto replies, laying a kiss on my shoulder blade. "Besides, it gave me an excuse to see you again before the show." At the mention of the show, the customary butterflies began in my stomach. "And don't be nervous," he continues, reading my mind. "You're going to be amazing; you always are."

"Thank you," I say, honestly less nervous at his words. It's very hard to not believe him.

"They're a sweet couple," Naruto says ponderingly, as we continue to wander around the emptied backrooms of backstage. "They're so in – "

He cut himself off. Half of it was because I knew what he was going to say. He was going to use the "L" word, and we haven't used that word yet. But he also cut himself off because we had just passed an old storage room in which two men are having sex.

Okay, they aren't quite having sex – yet. But it's clear that's the ultimate goal. Naruto's eyes meet mine, and, eyebrows raised, we both peer through the small window in the door to the room.

"Holy _shit_!" I say under my breath.

"Isn't – um – isn't that your instructor guy?" Naruto whispers tentatively in my ear.

"_Yes_!" I hiss. "And the costume designer!"

"Whoa…"

I don't really know _why _we didn't just leave Kakashi and Kiba to it, but we stand there transfixed for a few minutes.

We can't hear them through the door, but I can sense Kakashi's moans from the way his mouth lies open, clearly panting, as his leggings are pulled off his ankles and Kiba bites at the paleness of his ass.

There's something…not…human about that Kiba. He's so carnal, in the way he licks the cleft of my dance instructor, between the unsurprisngly firm cheeks. I can _almost _hear him growling, and Kakashi thrusts back against him, and oh _God _I can see a part of my teacher I never needed to see –

My goodness, he is fucking well-endowed.

But now, uncontrollably, I'm starting to get a bit too excited by this display. I shift uncomfortably – it's _not _good to get turned on before performing – and Naruto gets the hint. Blushing madly as Kiba starts to push inside, we clasp each other's hands and walk very quickly towards the busier parts of backstage. God, sex is just everywhere.

"Well." Naruto says as we reach the same bench (Neji and Gaara have exited the area, perhaps to find a more private place). "I – that was – well." I give a weak little smile.

"Eh," I say, trying to distract myself from how badly I want to jump his bones, "it makes sense. Kakashi needed to get some, and jeez, that Kiba's pretty much an ass pirate."

The silence following that is vaguely awkward, but not necessarily uncomfortable. I suppose it's more the tension that makes our air so thick. It's the odd air of being virgins together, but at the same time, not.

I'm almost grateful when the stage bell clanged, signaling audience members like Naruto to take their seats.

"Good luck, babe," he says, pecking me a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "I'll meet you at the dressing room entrance after the show."

"Don't call me babe," I reply, but I don't mean it, and he knows, and he squeezes my hand, and before I know it I'm in the wings again. Kakashi-sensei appears behind us, rubbing his head and his, well, hindquarters. He seems rather worn out, but he gives us a smile and a few words of encouragements.

"This is it, guys! I know you can do it, you've done it before." He grins. Hmm, I rather like this post-sex teacher. "Now – just do it better!"

Neji's next to me, his make-up hurriedly re-applied, a bit out of breath, but with a very satisfied expression on his face. I smile at him and he beams back, and I think to myself, now I know exactly how he feels.

It's a cheering thought, and it carries my limbs forward a split second before my cue comes, and for a moment I panic, but then the music guides me like the long bristles of a paintbrush guide the strokes of an artist, and I glide through my steps with energy coursing through me.

One, two, three, _grand jete, grand plie, et arête! Et repete. Et repete. Le position quatre, une autre plie, et – pirouette! _I stick the landing and the audience's applause carries us into the next scene. Poor, doomed Romeo.

But as intermission rolls around, and I reach for bottled water and stretch my enlivened ligaments, I realize the ending of their story – Romeo and Juliet's – isn't quite as tragic as I'd always seen it. I point my toes, and wow – I'd always figured Shakespeare was right in classifying this particular play as a tragedy because the new lovers died. I tug on my elbows, and hey, I always thought the story touched me because the emotion of the characters was cut off.

The next scene starts, and then the next, and the next, and Juliet plans her faked death, and Romeo's heart is consumed by her. Soon, Juliet wakes to find her lover lifeless in her arms, and as she picks up her poison, I realize the ending of the story isn't really that sad at all.

Curtain call makes Neji grab my sweaty hand and bow, and bow again, because this is the end of this run of the show, and Romeo and Juliet have died once again, but even as the white lights blind us and the applause is nothing but a roar in my ears, the peak of my epiphany reaches me.

Romeo and Juliet. Their story is not a tragedy because their love did not end. I can't believe I didn't see it before! All this time I'd been inwardly mourning for their lost love, but they died together, and so they were at peace. Their story didn't end because their love didn't end – it's eternal, and I can't think of anything less tragic than that.

"Sasuke! Sasuke!" I didn't even register the fact that I was in the dressing room, clutching a bouquet the conductor must have handed all of us, but I did recognize that voice, and I realized I was freakin' ecstatic.

"Naruto!" And he flings himself around me, even though I know I'm perspiring to the point of utter repulsiveness, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see Gaara attacking Neji in a similar fashion.

"You were fantastic," he rasps, pressing his mouth harshly against the sides of my face, "fucking fantastic."

I don't want to talk. I close all the distance between us, between every inch of our bodies, and kiss him so damned hard. After a few minutes of this, he pulls away with lust in his eyes.

"Please tell me the cast party is _tomorrow _night and we can go home now?"

"Yes, it is," I say, eternally grateful that it was true, "and yes, we can."

His face lights up and his hands travel up my shirt. The adrenalin is pumping through me so hard, I almost can't take it. I grab him and the walk home (well, we practically jogged) would have been absolutely unbearable if it wasn't for the promise of privacy waiting for us.

By the time we reach my door, we're panting. I unlock it and he fists my shirt and pushes me inside, and our mouths meet furiously, sloppily. He wraps his arms around me and lays me onto my bed, pulling up my t-shirt and kissing at my chest.

"You did so well tonight, Sasuke-sama," he breathes. "Let me reward you."

I know what's going to happen, but now, it doesn't seem like enough.

"Wait," I say, before he lowers himself for me again. "Wait. I – I want to talk first." He looks up at me, skeptical for a moment. I guess he thinks I'm teasing, but I'm not. I want some damned answers. He raises an eyebrow. I know he can feel how aroused I am, but I can feel how aroused _he _is, and I can feel his hardness and his wetness above me, and I don't want it to go neglected for yet another night.

"Oh," he says, rather deflated. He sits himself next to me on the bed. "Sure. Let's talk."

I take a deep breath. Damn, I have no idea what I'm doing. But fuck it, I'm an Uchiha, and if an Uchiha wants answers, he sure as hell gets them!

…also, if an Uchiha wants tail, he sure as hell gets it, my brother's near-harem of sex kittens should prove that.

"Naruto, why won't you let me touch you?" I say in one breath. His face pales.

"I don't know what you mean," he says too quickly. I roll my eyes.

"Of course you do, idiot!" He cringes, and for once, I regret the insult. I sigh and stroke his cheek with the back of my hand. It's sticky with sweat and scars, but it's so warm, and I like the feel of it. "Sorry. But you do know what I mean. Every time we're" – I cleared my throat – "together, you're always the one who" – oh God, why does he make me so fucking self-conscious. I'm never self-conscious! At least, I didn't used to be. "— I mean, you're always the one doing stuff for me. And I was just wondering why you don't want to – um – go farther."

He looks straight at me, and I can't read him.

"Why does it matter to you, if you're the one who's getting it? Why do you need to go all the way? Aren't I good enough for you, the way I am?"

I pull away my hand; I'm so taken aback. I can see his eyes are large with the beginnings of tears, and I don't understand.

"Of course you are! I – I – God, I'm sorry!" I rarely apologize. "God, I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was such a big deal! I don't want to pressure you into anything, of course I don't!" The words are true, but they sound lame. My voice is gruff with the new emotions, and it comes out wrong.

"Then why did you bring it up?" he says, tears trickling freely now.

"Because I just wanted to know the reason you won't let me touch you!" Now my voice was growing louder, more out of confusion than anger, but I don't think he saw it that way.

"Is sex all you care about?" he says, through small sobs.

"Of course not!" I'm still relatively a virgin, damn it, and not for lack of opportunity!

"Then why does it matter if I let you touch me or not?"

"Because I want to make you feel the way you make me feel!" I exclaim, in almost an outrage. "You have no idea how incredible it is, especially when I open my eyes and see your face smiling at me when the sensation is rocking through me, and I want to make you love me like I love you!"

He stops crying.

I stop breathing.

I hadn't planned to say it.

I hadn't even really realized it was true, not on a conscious level at least.

But it was.

And I'd said it, and I can't take it back.

"I love you," I say again, calmer this time, but vibrating with emotion. "I love you, and I don't care if we never have sex, I just wanted to show you what you do to me when we're together, but if you don't want it, I don't care about it. I just wanted to know why, but if you don't want to tell me, it doesn't matter, and I'll never bring it up again." I know I'm blushing. I lower my head so my bangs cover it, even though it barely matters, and I know I sound like a damned fag, but well, who cares.

"Sasuke," he says, and he's so sexy, "Sasuke, I love you too." He swallows hard, and I can't tell if I'm numb inside, or if my nerves are screaming with how much I care about him. "I love you too, and that's why I don't want to tell you why I don't want you to take off my clothes."

"I don't get it!" I say, racking my electrified brains, trying to put together the pieces. He takes a shuddering breath, then takes one of my hands. He holds it to his lips and studies my fingers, my palm, my nails, my knuckles. He kisses it, so gently.

"Of course you don't," he says, quietly. "You're so perfect. How could you?" He pauses, and I'm still confused. I mean, I suppose in some respects he's right – I mean, come on – but I don't see how that really matters. "Okay, I'll tell you the reason."

"You don't have to," I say immediately. "Never mind what I said before. Only tell me if you want to tell me."

"I want to tell you," he says. We cross our legs and face each other. "But please don't laugh, okay? And please, please don't be mad at me." He rubs the back of his blond head. "It's a stupid reason."

"I won't laugh," I promise, and I know I can keep that promise, Uchihas are adept at controlling sentiment – well, usually. "And I can't be mad at you." Which is weird, because I can get mad at everyone else.

He takes a shuddering breath, and I try to encourage him by rubbing away leftover tears. He tilts his head into my hand and smiles a little, and I smile back.

"Look," he begins. "You're a virgin, right?"

"Depends on what your definition is," I say, thinking back to what he's done to me.

"I mean, with people besides me," he interjects, his smile widening a bit.

"Then yes," I assure him.

"Right. Well. Then the only male bodies you've really seen are the guys at the dance studio, right? And the ones from other ballets?"

"Yes," I say slowly, not getting where he's going with this.

"Well, Sasuke, I'm not like them. And I'm not like you."

"You're better," I say automatically. He shakes his head.

"I know this is going to sound stupid, but please don't laugh, because it's a really big deal to me, okay?" I nod, so eager to find out what's going on. He sighs again. "Sasuke, I'm an artist. You spend your days dancing, and working out, and dancing, and toning your body, and being surrounded by guys with bodies just like yours. I spend my days playing video games and eating junk food, or painting and drawing and eating junk food. Indoors. Barely moving." He's toying with my sheets now. "I don't – I don't have the body you're used to seeing. I don't have the body all the magazines and T.V. shows tell me to have, and it never really bothered me until I had someone to compare myself too, and believe me, between us, there's no comparison. I don't have your flat stomach, or your abs – I love ice cream and Hostess cupcakes way too much for that. I don't have your biceps, I don't have your pecs, I don't have your thighs." He is fire-red now, which clashes horridly with his hair and his shirt, and makes his eyes look extra bright. "I don't have smooth skin, and I don't have a tight little ass, and I'm sunburned and I'm chubby, and I'm nothing compared to you, and it's _not _that I think you're superficial or anything, it's just that I really, really don't think I'm good enough for you, and I _definitely _don't think I'm hot enough for you, and I know you deserve better, and I'm just a selfish bastard who just wants to touch you and taste you, and I don't want you to stop loving me, but I don't deserve you, and I was afraid if you ever saw how damn inferior I am, you'd realize that."

He was crying again. And I couldn't breathe again.

"You – you think you're not good enough for me," I say.

He nods.

"You think you're not attractive enough for me," I say.

He nods.

"Naruto…" I say.

He cringes.

"I don't care," I say.

His head shoots up, his eyes meet mine, and I'm so relieved.

"I don't care what you think you look like. I don't care what people tell you to look like. And I _really _don't care what the boys down at the studio look like. I'm nowhere near too good for you – I'm an arrogant bastard, and fuck, I know it. And you're one of the only people who can put up with that. Hell, you even change that, a little." I reach out to pull him towards me, and he nearly jumps into my embrace. "You're beautiful, babe."

He wraps his legs around my waist, and I do love him, I really do, what he's told me only makes me want him more.

"Wait," I say, through nuzzling my face deep into his hair. "Does that mean – you've _wanted _to be with me? You just thought I wouldn't like what your body looked like?"

"I said don't laugh," he says, frowning. "It was really important to me."

"No, I know that," I say, "I'm not laughing. I just wanted to know – all this time – you've wanted me as much as I've wanted you?"

He blushes again.

"Of course," he says shyly. "I – I mean, I know how strong you are. And I know – well – I know how b-big you are." I can feel my nostrils flaring in amusement, though I manage to keep my composure. "I mean, since our first night together, I've known I want to be with you. But before that, since the first time I saw you dance" – he takes a huge breath and says the next words so quietly, so intense – "I've known I want you to screw me."

I gulped.

"Then – Naruto-kun – will you let me undress you?" I didn't want to have to ask permission – in fact, I never do – but he's transforming me. He looks reluctant.

"I don't know," he says, pained.

"Don't you trust me?" I ask. "I love you. You believe that, right?" He nods. "Then no amount of cupcakes is going to change that."

He smiles at me, nervously, and places his hands on my shoulders.

"You'll go easy on me, right?" Blond locks are falling into his eyes, and he's positively glowing.

"If it hurts – at _all_ – say it. And I'll stop." I brush a few strands away (though it's really just an excuse to tangle my hands in his hair). "You know me. I don't have any problems controlling my body."

He takes a final, deep breath, and then he does something that, admittedly, makes me harder than I've ever been.

"Then – Sasuke-sama – will you undress me?"

And he leans back slowly, with his legs still latched around my waist, and lies with his arms framing his face, flat on the bed.

Basically, he's pressing his ass into my crotch in the most seductive way possible.

"When did you learn to be so fucking sexy?" I growl, pouncing forward to devour his mouth. He just laughs and whispers something about natural talent.

We kiss fervently for a few minutes, and he rakes his hands through my hair, and I twist my limbs with his and relish the feeling of being on top. Soon it gets to be too much, and I can't stand his jeans, or my sweatpants.

I want him to be comfortable, and feel just a little bit in charge – though of course, tonight, I run this show – so I guide his hands to the hem of my shirt, and he obligingly pulls it off and flings it to the floor. Then I lean over and turn off the lamp, so the only light is that from the hallway, and the thin moonrays. I can still see him clearly, but I know he'd rather not be stripped under the harsh truth of clarity.

I kiss him again, gently now, and he's touching my chest and grabbing at my ass through my sweats, and it feels amazing as always, but I know tonight, I have to give back. So with one last brush against his lips, I slide my fingers under his t-shirt, and before he has a chance to say anything, I'm pulling it over his head. It gets stuck around his chin because I'm not paying attention, because I'm staring at his body.

I notice he's completely immobile under my unfaltering stare, so I drag my eyes to his face – and he's biting his lip so hard, he's so worried what I'll think.

He's so dark in contrast to the neon of his now-absent shirt. I shift forward and kiss the curves of his stomach. It bulges a bit around his waist, and the six-pack I'm used to seeing is buried under tanned, scarred fleshiness. But he's not overweight, not at all, he's just the size of an average guy. Fashion magazines and underwear models would tear him apart – so would my old ballet instructors, probably – but he's a comfortable size, and I hate the commercialism of our world for making him doubt that. His chest is soft and I smile, liking the firm feeling of his nipples under my tongue, liking the way his back arches into me.

"You had nothing to worry about," I say honestly. My hands are everywhere over his torso, loving how rich and soft and warm and dark his arms are, his chest is, his neck is. "You're perfect." He gives me a small, uncertain smile, and I laugh back, really _laugh _back, so my head falls a bit and my hair tickles him. He giggles and I feel him relax, and I take the opportunity to push my fingers into the back of his jeans. Just the back! I don't want to go too fast, even though I can barely stand it.

Now his eyes widen and he tenses. Once again, I don't know if I'm breathing. I watch his face, scrutinizing, to make sure I'm not making him uncomfortable. I move lower, lower, deeper, leaning into him, until our bodies are pressed so close together, and I can feel the flesh of his ass between my fingers. It's warm and soft like the rest of him, though a bit hotter, and a bit rougher. Tentatively, I knead my fingers, squeezing, cupping, trying to do what he does to me. He gasps, blushing so hard, and wraps his arms around my neck almost chokingly.

"Does it feel okay?" God, what an awkward question. I just have to ask it though, I have no _damned _idea what I'm doing. I move my fingers deeper, into the cleft of his ass, my heart pounding so loudly I know he can hear it. I don't push hard, or try to – _find anything_ – (oh God, what am I getting myself into), I just stroke the insides of the cheeks, where it's starting to get wet, and it's even rougher.

"Mm – mmhmm," he mumbles, fighting for breath, in my ear. He shifts himself against me, and licks my collarbone. "Sasuke?"

"Yes?"

"Could – could you take them off now?"

I don't have to ask what he means, and I don't want to ask if he's sure. I gently detach his arms from around me, and I pop open the button of his jeans. I see his knuckles turn violently white on the bedsheets, and I lean in to kiss him again, lightly.

Okay, he's going to have to stop being so tense, or this is going to hurt like fuck for him, won't it? (Which I guess it is, ugh…)

I scoot out from under him, setting him on the bed for a moment, and I pull off my own sweatpants. He sees what I'm doing, and he pouts a bit, in his _I wanna do it _way, and he yanks off my briefs. He lets me pull off his jeans, all the way, before turning red again and tucking his knees up to his chin.

"Naruto-kun," I say. I'd be exasperated if it wasn't so cute. "What are you doing?" He mutters something about not having taken a shower, or shaved his legs or anything. I roll my eyes. What a girl… "I don't care. Honestly, I don't." I smile and tilt in and kiss the tip of his round nose, and he blinks. "Come on, babe, we've come this far, right?" I put a hand on each of his knees, and part them, revealing his tartan boxers (hah) just barely masking a very, very needy arousal. I smirk, but he whimpers and grabs at my hands, so I sigh and I look at his eyes again. "Do you want me to stop? Because I will. Just say _yes_, and I'll stop. We don't have to go all the way, and we don't have to do anything now. Just say _yes_, Naruto, and we'll go to sleep, okay? Now, tell me. Do you want me to stop?"

And in a very small voice, like I knew he would, he says –

"No."

I grin, trying not to smirk again.

"Good." I grab the elastic of his boxers, but I can't remove them unless he moves. "Move your hips up."

"What?" he says confusedly, moving them backwards on the bed.

"No, no, _up_, move them up."

"What?" Now he moves them closer to me. I roll my eyes and tuck one hand under his ass, lifting it so I can get the boxers around his thighs. "_Oh!"_

I toss them on the floor, but in the second of distraction that takes me, Naruto's covering himself with his hands, blushing deeper than blood.

I want this to happen.

But I want him to want it.

And I know he _does, _I just don't want him to be so nervous, because he doesn't have to be.

…How hypocritical. I'm jumping out of my skin.

"Naruto-kun," I say again. I don't push his hands away from his crotch, but I put my own hands on top of them. "Look at me." He does, biting his lip. "You want this, right? You want me" – I kiss his chest, just below the collar – "inside you?"

"Yes."

"You know I won't hurt you?" I say, talking him through it, talking myself into it at the same time.

"Y-Yes."

"Then let me try to make you feel what you make me feel."

And so he swallows, hard, and in one motion he puts his hands back on my shoulders and shuts his eyes, and I can see every inch of him.

And there are quite a few inches.

I've never seen another guy's – well, you know – before, not really, and I've never seen one so…excited. Nervously – though I don't show it – I wrap my fingers around his wet shaft. He moans, and it twitches in my hand. I try to remember what he does to me – up and down and hold it tighter and use your thumb, something like that, argh – but it doesn't really work, so I just sort of jerk it. I don't want to do it too hard, so I don't think I'm making much of an impression, but then I feel Naruto's nails digging into my back and his breath going faster and faster.

"Does it feel good?" I ask, almost anxiously.

"Yes, _yes, _yes, it does! It does!"

"Good," I say, with more than a touch of pride. I get a bit bolder, pumping harder, moving my right hand up to touch at his – oh, I hate the term – balls, while my left hand strokes behind him again. His breathing is rough now, and my own erection is painfully in need of release; I'm so used to him pleasuring me.

As if he can read my mind, he lowers a trembling hand and starts doing the same to me, only he knows what he's doing (kind of). He takes me full in his palm and starts fisting me firmly, panting all the while. I try to do the same, and he grips hard at me when I squeeze a particular spot.

I don't know how much time passes that we clutch at each other, but soon it gets to be almost unbearable, and I know I can't wait much longer, and neither can he, but I want to _do _this.

Shit.

"I – I don't have anything to –"

"Here," he says breathlessly, and grabs my hand and jams three of my fingers into his mouth, sucking on them hard.

"Will it be enough?" I ask, embarrassed. He nods, though I can tell he's not really thinking about it, but hell, we're so wet already anyway.

I reach around him again and push in one finger. His hands are back on my shoulders now, and he lets out a stuttering gasp when I push in the second. It's so tight I have no idea how I'm going to fit without ripping him apart. Instinctively, I try to stretch him, separating my fingers and prodding in farther, but his muscles tighten and I know I'm hurting him.

"I'm sorry!" I say, gritting my teeth, trying to be more gentle, but it's so hard to focus with his cock pressing into my stomach and his lips distracting himself from the pain by biting onto my shoulder.

"It doesn't hurt," he gasps out desperately. "It – it doesn't hurt. Please – Sasuke, stop using your fingers. Please, _please_, I want you inside me, I don't know how long I can last!"

"Are you sure?" I don't know if it's him or me who makes us shift on the bed then, but we do, and my fingers go even deeper into him, and he lets out a little yell. He climbs fully onto my lap now, and hangs off my neck, and my fingers slide out of him, and his wet entrance is pressed right against my shaft, and I stop thinking logically.

He lifts himself over me, and looks straight into my eyes, and without fully comprehending what I'm doing, I plunge directly into him, and we fall over with him on his back.

He's so tight I have to close my eyes and say his name. I have no idea how to actually go about screwing someone, but I pull out until only the head is inside of him – he's breathing very fast – and then I thrust in again, and _fuck _it feels like heaven, but he's screaming, and I'd better listen.

His legs are around my shoulders now too, and I have to utilize my flexibility to manage to kiss his open mouth and his tearing eyes.

"Do you want me to stop?" I can barely get the words out.

He shakes his head.

"N – no! No! It's just – I – you're just so _big!_" But he's smiling as he says the words, and I smile back, and thrust again, and I'm stroking his cock again, against my stomach, and he's moaning under me. Still, I can see his tears, and it hurts me, so I can only imagine what it's doing to him.

"I know it hurts," I say, but his limbs are still tight around me, so I keep thrusting, loving the feeling of his walls closing around my own member every time I hit that place inside him.

"It's worth it," he murmurs, and he starts rising to meet my thrusts, and soon, oh God, so soon, I can feel ecstasy building inside of me, and he's screaming my name and I can't hear anything anymore, and he contracts, so tightly, and I grab his cock and my mouth is all over him, and I can feel myself releasing inside him, and he screams even louder as it does, but he's laughing. His chest spasms as I still thrust into him, riding out our orgasms together for the first time.

Soon, too soon, but I know this isn't the last time, we collapse together, and he groans as I pull out of him.

We're soppy and messy and tired and sticky, and I roll over, and he cuddles into my chest immediately, the fool.

"How – how was it?" I ask, not making eye contact. My breath still hasn't slowed yet.

"Wow," he says softly. "I'm…I'm so lucky to be with you."

I roll my eyes. The enthusiastic idiot…

I want to talk more, but I'm so exhausted – it's been a damned long day -- and besides, his eyelids are fluttering shut.

"Good night, Naruto-kun." I pull him close to me, and he kisses the side of my chest. He's so warm, and spunky, and unpredictable, and oddly cute (God, I hate that word) and his whole color scheme…I don't know, he's just so like some sort of animal, I can't really place it…

"I love you," he says. "You damn seducer you." He grins, baring a tired claw of fingernails. "Rawr!"

And it hits me.

"I love you too, my beautiful fox."

**Sorry for anyone who wanted the whole "scarred past" or "horrible defects" plot twist…I feel they're overused and I wanted to keep this story lighter and more real than that, so I always just planned on it this way xD Hope it's not too lame for you! Because honestly, body image is a really relevant issue…and it **_**doesn't **_**just pertain to girls. I've seen skinny people who are absolutely sexy, and I've seen skinny people who scare me. I've seen overweight people who are beautiful, and I've seen chubby people who are just unappealing. I believe so much of beauty comes from how you carry yourself. Everyone can be attractive, if only they aren't corrupted by society.**

**Kay, my beautiful readers, done ranting now xD I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I hope the sex scene was okay, and this is NOT the end of this story. Let me know what you think, and I'll see you in the next chapter!**


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